CARAVAN CITY, THE GOLDEN PLAINS—Adventurers visiting the local trading post were delighted to find that the owner, Kalder Bains, had gained yet another new accent for their interaction.
“I told him, ‘I thought you spoke like some rugged northerner, what’s this lazy drawl?’” the party rogue, Alvin, recalls gently teasing, to Bains’ consternation.
Added the party cleric, Glory, “When we first met Goodman Bains, he had delighted us with a rather refined manner of speech that seemed out of place in such a rugged locale. It was such a pleasant encounter that we opted to return a few days later, though I suspected from his demeanour then that he hadn’t thought to ever see us again.”
“’Tis a caravan town”, Bains told the Sending Stone, now having adopted a rolling brogue not unlike that found in Ireland on the world of Earth. “I can’t help that I pick up new things hither and yon. Truly, it’s not worth all the palaver. Now sod off, I’ve got a sore head and a fur on my tongue from last night’s abundance of fine-brewed bitters.”
Bains is not the only individual the adventurers have encountered in their journeys who has undergone startling changes. In the border town where the party stayed for a week before embarking across the Golden Plains, they met a blacksmith who inexplicably polymorphed from dwarf to human and a soldier who went from being the blond quartermaster to the brown-haired under-marshal.
“The further east we go”, remarked the party ranger, Aravas, “the more it seems as though reality is less certain. I wonder if, perhaps, things would be more well established out here if we had lingered but a little while longer in our homeland. I think we shall continue east anyway, and see if we can perhaps reach the edge of the world.”
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Feature Image by Caio Monteiro.
